keane @ carling academy brixton
Keane's gig last night left me completely deaf and with a voice my friends habitually call my 'phone sex voice'. (Read: low, husky, a borderline croak. How this can possibly be sexy is beyond my understanding.)The reason behind this shameful voice of mine is because, well, at a Keane gig, you naturally feel inclined to sing (or rather, yell) along to lead vocalist Tom Chaplin's passionate intonations, something that Keane's music enables the audience to do quite nicely. If you live in the UK you'll have heard Keane's ubiquitous singles and their much-talked-about brand of emotional, soaring pop, and the rather tiresome comparisons to Travis, Coldplay, and the like. The difference is that Keane - gasp - do not use guitars. Does this make them special? On the album, yes; in a live setting, not so much.
Let's not ignore the fact that bands all get a wee bit of studio tweaking. That's not to say Tom's voice isn't gorgeous - it is. He's blessed with a startlingly delicate and crisp angelic croon, displayed to perfection on the album. Last night, I fear he might have been trying too hard - his voice sounded brash and forceful, perhaps better suited to a live venue but certainly disappointing those hoping that the gig would capture some of the intimacy and warmth that their debut album, Hopes and Fears, did. Despite the programming, at times the lack of guitars did make some songs sound more like tinny Christmas carols - which was not the case on the CD itself.
Perhaps it was a combination of that, Tom's cherubic looks, or the band's choirboy image that made the sequences during the chorus of every song - when Tom punches his fist into the air and slams down his microphone stand in a fit of frenzied emotion - seem a little too contrived, as well as slightly juvenile. (There were at least two occasions during which I began questioning his age and telling myself that he really was singing into a proper microphone, and not a hairbrush.)
However, watching Tim Rice-Oxley's raucous, keyboard-pounding, foot-stomping, ground-shaking performance on the piano was a real treat, as were the two opening acts - talents to make note of. As for Keane, we'd love them more if they didn't try so hard to be the rock stars that they're clearly not. And that is definitely not a bad thing. Simple, sunny, catchy indiepop are what Keane do best, and they ought to keep it that way. As cliche as it sounds, we love Keane - just the way they are.
L'Esthete @ 23:57
